


I Changed Your Mind and Ended up Here

by seaqueen



Series: Through Stained Glass Eyes [2]
Category: Doom (2005), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, BAMF Bones, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-10 05:50:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaqueen/pseuds/seaqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The universe has a way of maintain status quo - even if John Grimm does not agree.</p><p>***ABANDONED</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

It has been a year since John has stopped hiding his past, at least around those who mattered to him, he reflects. It hadn’t ended well. The _Enterprise_ and her captain were still out there, in the deep dark reaches of space, and he was here on good ol’ _Terra Firma_. Teaching at Starfleet Academy of all things. That part still gets him, and it makes him chuckle when he thinks of how ironic it is. He hated every damn minute he spent at this academy; except the time he spent with his crazy ass roommate.

John sobers as he thinks of Jim. It broke his heart to leave him, but it was for the best. It was going to happen one way or another and it’s better that it happened sooner. Before they did something completely stupid – like fall in love. It was better he had left before Jim got more attached than he already was; no matter the price it extracted from John’s heart.

Besides. He’s only got maybe four or five years before he has to move on. He’s already getting close to pushing his luck and John’s not quite sure why he’s still sticking around. Some misguided attempt to actually make something of himself he supposes. Leonard McCoy has become a highly respected member of Starfleet and he’s already making a difference in the world. As the new Xenopathology professor, he’s better equipped medical students on how to treat non-humans. Something Starfleet’s been lacking.

John glances around at his surroundings. It’s a bar, a real dive of a place. He’d never come here with Jim which is a point in the place’s favor. The booze is great, another point. There’s not much atmosphere or ambiance in the place but then, he’s not exactly looking for a good time. It’s a real local sort of place and exactly what he needs tonight. He glances at the tumbler in front of him. He can’t even remember what’s in it but at this point, it doesn’t really matter. It’s his third bar tonight and he’s still not even close to being drunk. The woes of having twenty-four chromosomes he thinks with an internal sigh. He’s just knocked whatever it is, and whatever number it is, when his comm goes off.

**_All certified medical personnel to the Starfleet Medical immediately._ **

“Shit.” John curses softly under his breath. It didn’t bode well that they were calling all medical personnel; because a large-scale crisis was _not_ what he needed right now. Or maybe it was. Throwing himself into work did great things for distracting himself from wondering what Jim was doing, out there in the great blackness of space. Even as he hurried towards the hospital that dominated so much of the Academy’s horizon line, Bones took just one moment to spare a glance at the stars. He’d never been one for space travel, but somehow being up there with Jim made it all right. He didn’t fear space – rather, he respected her power and chose to remove himself from the equation. Samantha would’ve called it lingering mental effects of Olduvai. He calls it prudence. Just as sailors once respected the seas as the mighty power of their world, he respects the awesome might that is the final frontier.

* * *

 

“Doctor McCoy!” The relief on the other doctor’s face is evident, and John spares as a small thought towards how pathetic it really was that these supposed best doctors in the world were looking towards him as guidance. “We have a Tellerite, a Betazoid, and a Trill that need immediate surgical attention, and you’re the only qualified physician on staff on site.” John resists the urge to roll his eyes instead reaching for a lab coat and scrubs.

In the end, the aliens’ medical needs hadn’t ended up being all that terrible or at least John didn’t think so. He missed M’Benga. They’d worked in tandem, M’Benga always sensing what McCoy needed and rushing to assist before he even had to ask. He missed Chapel for the same reasons. Starfleet is so inept in training medical personnel. “Doctor McCoy!” An orderly rushes into the room, trailed by a gurney with a lump of cloths barely recognizable as a human body wheeled in behind him. John swallows. Hard. This one will not be so easy.

Tricorders are out, and the man is carefully transferred to a biobed on the surgical table. “Medication allergies?” He barks. The orderly takes a deep breath and begins to read a list from the medical chart. “Alkysine, Axonol, Bicardine, Cordazine, Dexaline, Hyperzine, Ipecec, Retinax V…” John stops him. “Is there anything he isn’t allergic to? Quickly man!” He orders. “Well, Amizine isn’t listed.” John wants to smack himself. Better yet, smack the orderly, and then smack the man on the table with the weird ass body chemistry. He freezes.

There can’t possibly be more than one man in the entire universe with that kind of ridiculous set of allergies. “Orderly. The patient’s name?” The man swallows. “Captain James Tiberus Kirk sir.”

The expletive that bursts out of him is not completely his fault, John later maintains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did promise that I'd continue this. And I will; so here's a prologue. I'm not finished with the whole story; so updates will be slower.
> 
> Title comes from the Pierce the Veil song "Stained Glass Eyes and Colorful Tears".


	2. Used To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time, and Jim doesn't know how to handle it.

 

 

_We used to have this figured out;_   
_We used to breathe without a doubt._   
_When nights were clear, you were the first star I’d see_   
_We used to have this under control._   
_We never thought._   
_We used to know._   
_At least there’s you, and at least there’s me._   
_Can we get this back?_   
_Can we get back to how it used to be?_

**Used to – Daughtry**

Why is it totally not surprising at all that Jim has once again managed to find himself under McCoy’s scalpel? Jim always had a predilection for injury, even before they put him in charge of the biggest playground in the universe with license to go wild. John can count on one hand, one hand, the amount of times he’d come back from an away mission without an injury. The kid was like a walking advertisement for Starfleet doctors – come, join us. Fix broken idiots like this one, earn a fucking commendation medal. That medal now resided somewhere behind his desk in his quarters; gathering dust. Though technically speaking, it had been earned for saving Captain – Admiral, he corrects himself – Pike. Not that it mattered.

Regardless, Jim’s stable now thanks to McCoy. The nurses are giving him that frank look of admiration again and John escapes to the nearby men’s room to flee. Yes. He’s that lame, escaping into bathrooms. But at this point he’s got to get his head on straight or he’ll never be able to make it through however many more operations he needs to.

It takes a few minutes but he’s good enough that he can go back out there. It’s a sad thing though – that a not quite fully functioning and half drunk Leonard McCoy is a better doctor than most of the completely alert ones out there. Kind of pathetic. He’s a modest man by birth, not to mention habit – after all he’s never wanted to stand out too much for fear of discovery – but sometimes the complete ineptness of the other medical staff frustrates him to no end.

John slips quietly into the medical room where Jim is sleeping, and does a double take when he realizes that the Captain’s roommate is Scotty, bandagaed almost as much as Jim is, sleeping fitfully. The miniscule sound of the door closing jolts him to full alertness, and the Scotsman’s eyes dart around the room fearfully before he relaxes upon seeing McCoy. “Doc’tah! It’s a relief tae see you, ye kin be sure.” The heavy Scottish accent hasn’t changed one bit in the year since he’s seen them last, and somehow that’s relieving in a way seeing them again wasn’t. Things don’t always change, and he’s seen too much change over the course of his lifetime. “Scotty.” John can’t help the smile that works its way across his face. “It’s good to see you. What happened?”

The exubcerant grin on the engineer’s face dimmed slightly. “Nasty business, that.” He scoffs and then winces slightly as he settles back down funny on his hip. “We were stopping by Earth tae pick up the amb’ssador.” John could imagine how much Jim loved that. “And the captain and myself came down in tae shuttle leaving Mister Spock in charge. Only tae shuttle was shot out of the sky and cras’ed in tae Academy grounds.” The Scot’s face was grim. “Turns out t’at some people were nay too pleased wit’ us.” Understatment.

A rare smile crosses John’s ace. He quickly masks it behind his usual gruff demeanor. “Well, at least y’all escaped.” He says. “I’m going to administer a sedative Scotty, you need to rest for your body to heal properly.”

“Aye Doct’ah.” The engineer answers, containing a wince as the hypospray is administered – although he’s got nothing on Jim’s typically vehement protestations and reactions to the same thing. Scotty slumps back, peaceful in sleep. John stick the hypospray back into the pocket of his lab coat, going back to stand beside Jim’s bed where the captain sleeps fitfully. “Dammit Jim.” He says softly, though without any real heat behind the words. Unable to help himself, John reaches forward to gently smooth a lock of hair off of the captain’s face. “Still getting into trouble I see.” John whispers, sinking into the chair beside the bed. “I miss you, you bastard. I can’t decide if leaving the _Enterprise_ was the best decision I ever made or the worst mistake of my long life.” He continues, knowing that no one can hear him. But it’s somehow comforting to tell Jim nevertheless.

He quietly leave the room to check on his other patients; the door closing with a soft snick behind him.

* * *

When Jim wakes up, it’s in an unfamiliar room; not his own Sickbay whose every dent or scratch in the walls and ceiling he has memorized by now. The second thought that passes through his mind is that Bones has been here. He can’t say exactly how he knows; but he does. His heart constricts painfully. The sharp pain that lances through him every time he thinks of the doctor has dulled, but it’s there as more of a persistent and lingering ache that refuses to go away – particularly when he’s injured and in Sickbay. Under the scalpel of Doctor Allen, rather then the one man he trusts to always have him in one piece it’s never as comforting to open his eyes to that familiar place. It isn’t a comfort to realize that once again he’s safe; even it means a tongue lashing that could peel paint is to follow. It hadn’t helped his psyche any that while the new CMO was female; she was also as no-nonsense and gruff as Bones.

Not one bit.

Jim’s almost positive that if he hadn’t blurted those fateful words out in anger and desperation, he probably could have convinced Bones to stay. _If you leave, I’ll tell someone._ They play on endless repeat in his mind every time he closes his eyes, like a cruel trick that will haunt him for the rest of his life. Other memories fade and drift away like smoke in the wind – but that one is as clear and sharp edged as the day he let his mouth fall open and words like sparks tumble out. But he’d nailed his own coffin shut once they’d left his mouth. It had taken them close to four years to get the point they had been at; and only a few days for Jim to lose it all.

People didn’t stick around. That had been one lesson he’d taken from life, and one lesson he wasn’t easily going to forget. Everyone he’d ever let close in any way had left him, except for Bones. Jim had honestly begun to believe the doctor was different, that he would be the one to break the streak. Apparently not. Though, if Jim was being honest with himself; it was his own damn fault for pushing Bones away. John had trusted him enough to confide his deepest secret – one that would get him stuck in a lab somewhere and dissected and analyzed and Jim had thrown it in his face with a few careless words.

But somehow, they’d managed to find each other again. Jim is determined not  to screw this second chance up – he never gets second chances as a rule. It’s a very rare thing that anything in life goes his way, and only since he got the _Enterprise_ have things begun to fall into place. And before that – the moment a dirty and scraggly man turned to him on a shuttle and muttered ‘ _I might throw up on you_.’ had they even had a chance to start thinking about the correct places to fall. And then in a moment of stupidity; he’d lost the single most important thing in his life. Bones had wormed his way into the reluctant blonde’s heart without even meaning to, even before they’d become so much more. And while he didn’t know if Bones felt the same way, Jim knew he was one little dependent fuck up.

His normally, if not perfect at least passable, diplomatic skills had spiraled into dismal-ville, forcing Jim to leave Spock in charge of negoations or diplomacy except when unavoidable. The whole ship had noticed the change in their normally affable and genial captain; and rumors abounded about the exact nature of the relationship between the captain and their former CMO, and what had caused McCoy to leave. Jim couldn’t bring himself to care.

The door to the room whoosed open softly, and Jim’s eyes snapped to the door. The profile outlined by the light from the hallway was as familiar as breathing to the young captain, and Jim forgot to breathe.

Bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics come from 'Used To' by Daughtry and I claim no ownership.


	3. Dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate always seems to have a way of tipping her hand into things when least expected.

 

_Dying, Dying to die just to come back so we can meet again_  
Dying, Dying to say what I always should have said  
It’s a strange emotion this but there’s still hope in this  
As long as there’s a breath...  
I’m dying and I can’t live without you again

  **Dying – Five for Fighting**

 

Jim Kirk knows he can’t always be right.

That he isn’t always going to win at every situation despite the fact that he whole heartedly does not believe in the no-win scenario. He can’t always bring everyone home safely and it’s been a hard fought lesson to learn. He lost an entire away team a few days into the _Enterprise_ ’s five year mission, one that at the last second he hadn’t been able to join because of something requiring his attention on board. That they’d vanished without a trace, only to show up three hours later dead was something he couldn’t take. Since taking command, he’d learned that he wasn’t as infalliable as he’d always thought, that he couldn’t solve every problem. No matter what precautions he takes, what planned he does, something will always go wrong. But to be frank, Jim is tired of everyone looking at him like he’s going to magically pull a miracle out of his ass and save the day. He’s no hero.

Well according to everyone around him, he is. James T. Kirk, hero of the Earth and the Federation. He wasn’t enough of a hero to save Vulcan was he? To save those other seven starships who had warped into destruction. If he’d only remembered the _fucking events of his birth and his father’s death_ earlier they might all still be alive. Fuck, he should have known the instant the messenger ran into the hall during his hearing. A million different invisible points at which he could have changed things. Uhura talking about the Klingon prison planet. In the hanger. Any where, anyone of them – they could have changed time and he didn’t notice them go flashing by, gone in a heart beat. Bones would have comforted him and told him that if anyone should have known, it should have been Pike who wrote the dissertation on the incident. But Jim can’t help but feel they all lucked through the whole thing with little input from himself. 

If Sulu had put them into warp two minutes earlier, if Bones hadn’t felt bad for him and snuck him aboard, if he’d woken thirty seconds later from the sedative and missed Chekov’s announcements, if he hadn’t been with Gaila when Uhura came back and reveaed what she’d heard in the long range sensor lab – the what if’s dragged on. Jim knew beyond a doubt far too much credit was being laid to rest on his own undeserving shoulders.

He is the youngest Captain in Starfleet Histroy, the most unlikely, the boldest and the most unpredictable. It makes him different, it makes him unique. And it also reminds people of his father. People tell him all the time how much like the Great George Kirk he is, how proud his father would be of him. Jim’s fucking sick of it. He’s not his father. He’s not his father – he’s not nearly as good a person or as selfless. And he doesn’t think he would have had the strength or the courage to do what his famous father did. He would die for his crew, sacrifice himself to the oblivion to save his crew however, but he’s not sure he could live with or be able to send the love of his life off on a shuttle giving birth and be forced to listen to the pain. Unable to be there, holding on tightly trying to bear it too. And then have them suffer and listen to him die. Scratch that – Jim _knows_ he would not have the strength or courage supposedly passed on to the son.

People say that Jim Kirk is an overconfident, cocky sonuvabitch; and generally were right. But that didn’t meant that undeneat he was the same way. The doubt was always there, even if on the surface he played at being the self-confident man who knows what he wants and knows he will eventually get it. Everyone expected too much from him, folding his hands behind his head. He wasn’t a miracle worker – he left that up to Bones. Even as he cultivated the image of the great and might Captain Kirk he was still just Jim beneath it all. Deep down, he was just a kid from Iowa trying to scramble to carve out a piece of the world that couldn’t be ripped away from him like everything ese had been. He hadn’t gained the confidence, the aplomb and the dignity of a starship captain yet; let alone that of the flagship of Starfleet. At times he despaired of ever really becoming the cool and suave James T. Kirk that Spock Prime knew and subconiously expected him to be. Oh, not in so many words, but it had been lurking there in the mindmeld.

And what they didn’t know was that their so called hero couldn’t function any more without his best friend who’d become so much more before Jim had driven him out of his life. They didn’t understand that beneath the façade, Jim Kirk was just a broken little kid trying to desperately to hold on to the few good things that have stumbled into his life. The _Enterprise_ , his crew – even Spock, who if he’s being honest with himself has become an exceedingly close friend.

Bones.

He is nothing without Bones. Nowhere he can quietly fall apart, crumble to tiny, splinted pieces. To be painstakingly patched and pieced together again; glue smoothed over the fracture lines until they seem invisible even though the both know they’ll never really go away and only wait for the right amount of pressure to burst open again. He misses the goddamn ornery bastard. And seeing him standing the doorway is more than he can bear. John hasn’t noticed that he is awake yet, but the startled and choked gasp that escape out of the captain alerts him to the fact, and his dark head snaps to glare at Jim.

“You shouldn’t be awake.” He says darkly. “You’re not healed enough for your body to handle the strain Captain.” The brisk no-nonsense tone is typical for the doctor, but the underlying affection that usually laces through it is gone. Jim can’t deny he feels its loss. “If you actually lay there and let your body heal, you should be good to go in another day or so.” Bones reports brusquely.

“Doctor McCoy, Doctor McCoy!” A nurse bustles in. “They need you downstairs. Ambassador Spock suffered a major heart attack, and he’s refusing treatment from any doctor but you.” McCoy strides out of the room, grumbling under his breath about hobgoblins of any age; leaving a sorrowful and speechless captain in his wake. 

* * *

 

John scowls at the man standing in his office, not even bothering to cover his unhappiness. “You’re fucking kidding me.” The admiral straightens, staring him directly in the eye.

“Watch your language McCoy. You might be one of the most brilliant surgeons and medical officers Starfleet has, but that does not excuse you from the regulations upon behavior.” Barnett admonishes but John is now cowed as the admiral clearly expects him to be. “Ambassador Spock is going back to New Vulcan, and as his condition is fragile and he is under our protection until he is under the care of Vulcan’s own doctors – we are responsible for his continued health. And the Ambassador refuses to leave the care of this hospital unless it is under you eye Doctor.” John’s scowl deepens. The little fucker. He knows exactly what’s going on here.

The green-blooded bastard doesn’t need his care in particular and he’s never shown any prediliection for refusing other physican’s assistance before; and not to mention the old guy is a hell of a lot sturdier than he lets people know. This is about getting him back onboard the _Enterprise._ Maybe back in his universe that’s how it happened; but not here. Not in this reality where Leonard McCoy is also Reaper. Not in a universe where John is terrified that every touch on the man he loves will hurt him; when he sees the bruises that a single moment’s carelessness can bring. Jim is safer, far safer, away from where Reaper can damage yet one more thing irreparably and he will not be the one responsible for snuffing the brilliant light that is Jim Kirk out of the universe that needs him. He can’t protest much farther without losing his job, even though at this point it’s starting to reach the point of slightly risky and it’s almost time to ‘die’ somewhere that recovering his body is impossible.

“Yes sir.” John grinds out, thoroughly pissed at this point. He spins on his heel and stalks out of the room to go check on his patients; just barely on the correct side of being insubordinate.

Sometimes, the ex-Marine feels the universe is out to get him. Jim Kirk is not the person he expected to fall in love with at some point in the inconvieable future, back when he’d spent days upon days contemplating his seemingly infinite life after Sam’s death. Though if he’s being honest with himself, Jim is ridiculously like her. It’s almost scary sometimes; how he looks up and sees echoes of his sister in his former lover. It isn’t possible; not when the Grimm line now ends with him.

With a sigh, he scrubs his face with his hands and goes to pack, since it seems fate has conspired to get him aboard the _Enterprise_ one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are from "Dying" by Five for Fighting. I claim no ownership.


End file.
